A DoctorType Pon Farr
by B.J. Sanders
Summary: I think Bones might be going through Pon Farr. Oh, also, call down to engineering. I don't think Scotty's going to be back to work anytime soon." Scotty tries to help the doctor loosen up. It has unexpected results. Rated M for a reason. Slash.


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Title: A Doctor-Type Pon Farr

Rating: M

Pairing: McCoy/Scotty

Summary: Written for prompt on st_xi_kink meme on LiveJournal. _McCoy/Scotty; rough, quick, dirty sex.  
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McCoy thinks there might have been alcohol involved somewhere but he doesn't remember. And he doesn't care, not with a Scottish mouth swallowing his cock. He's not even sure where they are – they could be in Scotty's room, somewhere down in engineering, or maybe they're in the sickbay, scaring away the nurses. For all he knows, they could be in Jim's room, or on the bridge in front of everyone, but it doesn't matter because Scotty's pulled away, pressing up against him to let him taste what he knows is himself.

It makes him harder, the soft tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth, reaching back and battling, scraping teeth and smashing lips. McCoy's sure he's never had a kiss quite as hot as this, and he moans, pressing forward until Scotty's flat on his back, aching need pressing into his belly, legs spread wide and inviting.

Scotty arches into him, fingers already at that point where they have to hold on but can't. Their mouths are still connected, so McCoy has to pull away for a moment to wet his fingers, sucks on them without looking away from Scotty's eyes. He wants this too.

First one finger, then two, McCoy watching the squirming, bucking form beneath him, turned on as Scotty tries to fuck himself, wants to fuck him even more now.

There's not much warning except for fingers leaving and cock sliding in. Scotty pushes down, pained but pleasured, mouth open in silent scream, hot rushes of breath against McCoy's neck as he thrusts forward.

The Scottish brogue is a whisper under the heavy breathing surrounding them, an odd sound in the guttural noises they make, of ­_c is equal to the speed of light_ and _used in warp propulsion systems to regulate_ and McCoy is wondering if he should start muttering about Steinman or Cygnian Respiratory Diseases because he's a doctor, not an engineer. But damn if it doesn't turn him on anyway.

Scotty curls in on himself, legs locked around the doctor's hips, arms around his shoulders, head thrown back in utter ecstasy as a white stream shoots between them, slick and sticky in the friction of their bodies.

McCoy can practically see the white behind Scotty's eyes because he sees it too as his cock explodes, pulling out as he spills himself over Scotty, white with white and he thinks he's never come harder, but it doesn't matter because Scotty is there, making sure he didn't leave anything behind, licking up until his tongue is in McCoy's navel and above, cleaning and then he's come again, and half of Scotty's face is dripping white.

Scotty doesn't mind, his tongue still working, fingers over his own stomach, drawing in the ejaculate that decorates him until they find themselves behind McCoy, teasing and stroking and pushing in until he's weak in the knees, wondering why he's still hard.

Scotty lays back, brings the doctor with him and slides his cock in, rocking up until McCoy's gasping for breath, rocking by himself, eyes closed and head hanging.

And then McCoy's on his back, his legs over the engineer's shoulders as he's split in two and Scotty's pounding with everything he's got, so hard that they're sliding across the floor, thrust by thrust.

They come together this time and McCoy's sure he's spent but he's still hard and as Scotty falls beside him, he notices he's not alone there.

Scotty groans, arm over his eyes. "Maybe I should'nae have put so much in there," he mutters, so low that McCoy almost misses it.

But he doesn't, and he wants to know what it means. Suddenly, Scotty looks guilty. "You jus' look like you needed ta loosen up some, doctor, so I added a li'l liquid yohimbe to your drink. Got it mine, too, but I didn't know that till later." He was actually laughing a little.

McCoy curse. "You mean the _yohimbine_? How much did you use, exactly?"

"Do'nae worry, doc, it was a small bottle."

And then Scotty was back on him, breath hot on his cock and McCoy couldn't stay mad.

-

The next morning, Jim was worried about his CMO. And he hadn't heard from his chief engineer, either, which caused him to worry doubly, because that man loved his engines more than life, possibly more than sandwiches…

Jim stopped short, Bones' room opened before him. Evidently, sandwiches and engines came _after_ the doctor.

The Captain tilted his head, watched as Scotty moved franticly behind Bones, whose face was shoved into the pillow, ass in the air, hands pumping helplessly at his cock. And the _noises!_ Jim thought he'd never heard anyone make quite that loud a moan before, or… whatever noises Scotty was making.

They collapsed in front of him, Scotty not even moving away from Bones. "Can we sleep now?"

"Dammit, I'm still _hard!_ This is your fault, you know! Fix it!"

Jim decided to leave then, silently giving them the day to themselves, even as he heard Scotty's scream down the hall.

Back on the bridge, Spock raised his eyebrow as Jim gave instructions to block off the doctor's corridor and comm'd sickbay to tell the nurse that she was in charge. After, he explained as best as he could.

"I think Bones might be going through _Pon Farr_. Oh, also, call down to engineering. I don't think Scotty's going to be back to work anytime soon."


End file.
